She Leaves
by peacelovespring
Summary: Emma doesn't let people in. Then she meets him…and she runs away.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: She Leaves

With the sole exception of August, she had never really had any friends. Never let anybody in, never had to push anybody away. Nobody ever fucking tried either. Who would want to? There was Neal, and being with Neal was a mistake, of course. They were together, sure, but love him? No. He was convenient. He made a shitty situation better, but it was still shitty. Then he (and maybe she) made it even shittier and she went to jail, which maybe should have been more shocking than it was. It felt more like an inevitability if she was being honest. The kid was a surprise but never part of the plan. Couldn't be a part of the plan. Her a mom? Hahah NO. So she gave the kid away, never even saw him. Just pushed, pushed, pushed, then poof; she was alone again.

She didn't necessarily like being alone but she hated people more. It felt uncomfortable and awkward, and just terrible. Having to smile and laugh and give a shit about these people who clearly wouldn't, didn't give a shit about her. It was easier to be alone, yes but it also was better, much better too. Her life wasn't great, but it was fine, just fine, and that felt great after so much.

Then this guy shows up, flirts shamelessly and constantly. Saves her in a few (okay more than a few) situations and smiles at her afterwards, like they're some goddamn team of conspirators. But he doesn't mean it, she knows that. She's just a challenge and he will get bored and moved on. They do that, men like him who are beautiful and move well in the world. So no, she doesn't open up to him, and tell him personal things like feelings and shit. She doesn't accept his invitations to dinner, the bar, karaoke, even the damn roller rink that one time, because what was the point? He would leave and she would ache for the almost something they might have had. So she leaves. She had been meaning to anyway. She needed a fresh start where no one knew her name and she needed to clear her mind and her life of a guy who wasn't going to happen.

She was there 3 months when he showed up at her work. She hadn't exactly hidden her move or her forwarding address but she also had a lifetime of experience telling her no one would try. Not parents, not friends, no one. After all, this wasn't her first move, her first new city. But there he was, walking up the sidewalk with that determined set to his face, his walk, and she panicked. She saw him coming and she panicked. She grabbed her coat and keys and ran for the fire stairs. She always knew the exits.

She called the secretary and told her she was sick. And she was. Her stomach twisted and her mind felt dizzy, foggy. She needed air and she needed grass and leaves to keep her tethered to the earth. She went to the park and her favorite bench. It was wet from the autumn weather but she barely noticed and barely cared. She sat, freezing, clutching her hands hoping that this feeling of dread and cold would leave soon.

She hoped he was here by mistake. She hoped he was looking for her and she hoped that he wasn't. A confrontation scene would be messy and a near miss would hurt like hell and she was poised so perfectly, precariously on the edge of her feelings about his reappearance that sitting here on this bench, freezing, slowly soaking her pant legs, was the only thing that made sense in the moment. She knew she should get up, walk home, change clothes and feed herself. She needed to keep moving, keep living, keep pretending everything was fine and go on. But what if she didn't? What if she stayed glued to this bench for eternity and just became another fixture in the park? She doubted the other park patrons would mind and she could finally befriend all these pigeons. She could just stay here.

She sighed and blinked, looking around. He was right there, on the other side of the path, watching her. And waiting, for something from her probably.

She closed her eyes and hoped it was a dream, a trick. If he was here, searching for her then he probably had something to say. Something that had to be said face to face so that the meaning couldn't be lost in the realm of text messages or voice mails. If he was here he probably wanted to see her and talk to her. He was probably choosing to see her, even though she had closed herself off and moved away. If he was here, she probably couldn't run away again. If he was here, she really didn't want to.

She opened her eyes. He was there, he hadn't moved either but he was smiling. It was small and tentative but it matched his eyes in a sign of genuinity that even she couldn't misunderstand.

She took a deep breath. "Killian, hi."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: He Follows

When he walked out of that office, he had turned on the sidewalk in time to see a flash of blonde hair and a red scarf turn around the corner. He was jogging after her before his brain had caught up, but then, his brain hadn't been doing much decision making lately.

She slowed down when she reached the park and went straight to a bench under a willow tree. He followed but stopped about 20 feet from her, not sure what would happen next. She was staring at the leaves and the sky and seemed oddly out of it, shaken even. Her gaze shifted to the pigeons looking for scraps nearby, and fell on him. Her eyes snapped shut, as if she didn't want to see him, and he smiled; this was the Swan he knew.

The Swan who wouldn't, couldn't face the truth that someone might care for her. She was independent in the most maddening way, sure that there was nothing she couldn't accomplish on her own. The Swan who had to be surprised into seeing him, spending time with him. Who would let him take her to dinner but only if she could pay her half, as if that meant it wasn't a date, as if that meant he didn't care. The Swan who refused to do anything that remotely suggested a relationship. Who probably wouldn't even admit he was her friend.

But they were friends, by anyone's definition of the word. He called her when he had a bad day and she made him laugh with her reenactments of her boss and they had shared more cups of coffee than he could count. He met her at the bar after work and spent more time analyzing their fellow patrons than they did at work; no one at that bar had seen more last calls than them. He knew she preferred Thai and she knew his favorite pizza place and they spent enough weekends splitting a takeout billl to marathon through every Supernatural episode.

He also knew that relationships, and people in general, made her skittish. He didn't know every detail, just enough that a combination of a terrible childhood filled with themes of abandonment had seemed like more than explanation enough to him. Because what did the details really matter? He had had his share of terrible relationships; his dad leaving, his mom dying, then the whole Milah fiasco. But did he need to share all those stories with every person he met? No. No, it was enough for them to know that he didn't take secrets or betrayal lightly. He knew enough about Emma to know that abandonment was her nail in the coffin, the last straw, the thing to send her running for the hills.

So he was there for her, always. Maybe Emma didn't like to call them "plans", but there was an understanding that they would meet at the bar, or spend the weekend at his place, or that he should always answer her calls. Then he had a few crazy shifts over a weekend, which turned into a week. He called her everyday though and he usually received some acknowledgment from her, even if it was just a short text in reply. Things at work finally calmed down over the weekend and he was put back on normal hours. He had called Emma first and told her to come by his place for dinner and he would have her Thai order waiting, as an apology for being so MIA over the past week. He hadn't heard back, but that wasn't unusual; Emma wasn't exactly a great communicator.

But then it was two hours after her shift was over and he still hadn't heard from her, let alone seen her. He figured she was just mad, so he had wrapped up her food and stuck it in his fridge. He was worried about her, and resolved to hunt her down at work the next day and apologize in person.

He never got to apologize in person though and her coworkers told him that she had moved. She had left a forwarding address though, obviously meant for him; why else would she have left that behind?

So he had followed her and here he was, watching her sit on a bench with her eyes closed. He was so relieved to see her, to have confirmation she wasn't just a really good dream. He had started to worry she was, after so many months apart, after so few weeks together.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He grinned at her, but didn't want to scare her away by moving closer just yet. He wasn't sure where to begin this conversation, but then she took a deep breath.

"Killian, hi."

"Hello, Swan. Did you miss me?" She rolled her eyes, and his anxieties about coming after her began to melt. He crossed the path and sat next to her on the bench.

He gave her two heart beats to say something, anything about him being there but then we was blurting out, "They wouldn't let me quit my job."

"What?"

"They wouldn't let me quit. When you…left, I just wanted to follow you, to come after you but they wouldn't let me quit. Something banal and dumb and stupid about 'responsiblity' and 'we're a family business Killian, you just can't leave', not that I'm even part of the family, but they conveniently left that out of the argument," he was rambling now, but he couldn't stop talking.

"What?" she repeated.

"I mean, obviously I left and I did quit, but they had to find someone to replace me first, so that's why I'm only here now."

"What?"

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"I don't understand why you're here," she was staring at him, hesitancy in every line of her body.

"Why am I here? Swan, love, you couldn't leave me behind, you know that right? I was always coming with you."

"You didn't even know I was leaving. I didn't leave a note, I didn't call, why are you here?"

He was thrown and his desperation creeps in, "I…I want to be with you Emma. I…I thought that was clear and then you left, without…do you not want me here?" His eyes widen in shock, that thought not having crossed his mind.

"Killian…I…I don't know what to say." She finishes softly, she won't look at him and his heart tightens.

"Emma, listen to me okay? I know you don't trust me, and I know I'm a pain in the ass and a lot of trouble but, Emma, I'm here. I came here to be with you and I only want to be with you." His heart is thundering but she's looking at him and searching his face with her super power, trying to puzzle him out.

"Look, Killian, I ran away -" she takes a deep breath.

"- I know -" he interrupts.

"- from you." She finishes and he flinches.

"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up."

She laughs. "You show up here, three months after I leave, and hope that I won't ask you why you came? How exactly did you imagine this going?"

He can tell she's mostly joking, but he answers her seriously anyway.

"I imagined showing up, you being delighted to see me…"

Here she started laughing again.

"…taking me back to wherever you live now, and then enjoying a large pepperoni pizza from the best place in takeout distance, which you would've scoped out already, anticipating my arrival!" he finished triumphantly with a sly grin on his face.

She nudged his shoulder laughing and got to her feet.

"Well, maybe I do know a place we can get you a pizza from…" His heart lifted and he jumped to his feet.

Emma held out her hand to him. "C'mon, we can grab it on our way back to my apartment."

Killian grabbed her hand, happy to follow her anywhere.


End file.
